Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Portugal and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Jesus and Mary Chain to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
Sight & Sound,
Infiniti,
The Cramps,
Eden Ahbez,
Nirvana,
Dual Sessions,
Animal Collective,
H. Thieme,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gerry Rafferty,
Pagans,
The Golliwogs,
Kerrie Biddell,
Radio Birdman,
The Doors,
Barclay James Harvest,
Neil Young,
Jawbox,
Model 500,
Brothers Johnson,
Moebius,
Funkadelic,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Colin Newman,
Barry Ungar,
Monolake,
Bobby Womack,
The Move,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Thompson Twins,
Outsiders,
Oblivians,
Fort Wilson Riot,
New Order,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Mantronix,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jandek,
Buzzcocks,
Donald Byrd,
Accadde A,
Vladislav Delay,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Happenings,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Connie Case,
Flash Fearless,
Average White Band,
The Kinks,
Radiopuhelimet,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Au Pairs,
Reuben Wilson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
John Lydon,
Camberwell Now,
Dorothy Ashby,
Silicon Teens,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.